I'm Ok
by LibbyAnn13
Summary: Mark’s memories are all visually triggered.


Title: I'm Ok.

Author: phoenixprincess AKA Libby

Feedback: sends me over the moon  
Pairing: Mark/Roger; Mark/April friendship; Roger/April mentioned;Mark/Maureen mentioned

Word Count: 1,465  
Rating: R  
Genre: Angst  
Summary: Mark's memories are all visually triggered.  
Notes: This plot-bunny has been hitting me in the head ever since the first time I read a "Mark gets AIDS" story.  
Warnings: mention of April's Suicide.  
Disclaimer: I do not own RENT or any of its characters; I just like to play with them!

My memories are all visually triggered. A bench in the park where Maureen and I first kissed, the table at The Life where I realized I was in love with Roger, the scar on my forearm where I got AIDS. The triggers are secret to me. Only those who share them know. And the one who gave me AIDS is gone.

I don't blame her anymore. I used to. It took a long time and a lot of help from Maureen to get this far. Now I know that it was an accident, that she wasn't in her right mind. And Yet…

Maureen's the only one who knows I'm HIV positive. We were a couple when it happened and she took me for the test. Just like I took Roger for his HIV test after…April.

One of the many thought I've had during the days of denial was that she ruined both our lives. Roger was a junkie because of her, he had AIDS because of her, and**_ I_** had AIDS because of her.

Slowly though I began to see the reality. Roger was a junkie before her, and in being a junkie he could have easily given her AIDS. And it was an accident. She hadn't even realized she did it.

For the past year Maureen has been trying to get me to tell Roger he's positive. She claims it'll help our sex life, or lack there of. Roger's always afraid that he'll 'pass off the death sentence' and I do nothing to correct him. I suppose I'm too ashamed, and too afraid. Ashamed that I kept this a secret for so long and afraid of what Roger might do. I don't want Roger to hate April, he loved her too dearly and I'm afraid that if Roger knows what happened that night, he would hate her.

It was an accident. She didn't know the razor was still in her hand. She was too out of it. I came home an hour earlier than I told her I would. If anything it was my fault.

**Mark rolls up his sleeves. There, on his inner left arm, is a scar about four inches long started about a half an inch below his major veins. He stares at it and remembers…**

_"Fucking rain." Mark spit out as he ran, his coat covering his precious camera instead of himself. Briefly he wondered if Roger was out on the street today but he brushed that thought to the side. So what if he got sick, heroin would do a hell of a lot more than a bit of rain._

_He reached the loft in record time and slammed the door shut. It appeared to be empty so he assumed April had gone with Roger to his band practice, wouldn't be the first time. He dried off his camera with an old kitchen towel and went to change. As he was passing the bathroom Mark thought he heard the sound of crying. Shaking his head he started to walk again when he heard a moan. Softly he knocked on the door and when there was no answer he opened it slowly._

_The first thing he noticed was the smell. Copper mixed with the floral shampoo April always used. Then he saw the blood. It was only a few drops on the floor but that made him pull open the blue plastic shower curtain that surrounded their bathtub._

_April, fully clothed sat in the tub half filled with pink water. A razor in her right hand and both her wrists cut deep vertically. She was awake, coherent, and crying. He grabbed her around the shoulders and behind the knees and pulled her up out of the frigid water. She was shivering and buried her head in his chest._

_She whispered 'sorry, so sorry' over and over again like it was her mantra. He took off his shirt and ripped it in two by the hole that was growing in the center. After wrapping each half on her wrists and tying them tightly he spoke in a whisper that was just a quiet as hers._

_"April honey, you're gonna be alright. I'm gonna go call 911."_

_He got up and turned but she screamed and reached out to him. Weak from the loss of blood and forgetful from the heroin she shot up not moments ago all she succeeded in doing was slashing a large gash in his inner forearm. Mark hissed in pain but left anyway to call 911. She was losing blood fast and they had to get there as soon as they could._

_After giving all the necessary information the operator asked him to stay on the line but he didn't listen. He needed to check on her and the phone chord wasn't long enough so he just hung up. He stared at the receiver for a few seconds. It was stained with blood. Hers? His? He didn't know._

_When he went back to the bathroom she was still conscious if only just barely. She had unwrapped the cloth from her wrists and blood had pooled all around her. He sat next to her and grabbed the blood soaked rags that was once his shirt and tied them back to her wrists. She grabbed both his arms with her hands and he winced as she squeezed his cut._

_"Marky, tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I love him. Tell him I'm sorry. Oh god Marky I'm so sorry."_

_He took her in his arms and gently rocked her back and forth. Since they met they've been almost as close as him and Roger and suddenly the reality of the situation hit him. She was dying. She had done this to herself._

_Finally the tears came as she leaned into his embrace. She was getting weaker, he could feel it. She looked him in the eyes, his wet and glossy, hers hazy and unfocused. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "take care of him Marky." before she went limp._

The only person who really knows about what happened that day is Maureen, and she just knows the basic facts. Roger knows that I was there with her when she died and used it as ammo during his withdrawal. Phrases like "you should've saved her" and "you did nothing to help because you wanted her dead" were common place in the loft. Many of them were caught on camera.

I have one roll of film hidden in my closet. It was the worst of Roger's episodes. He screamed, ranted, raged. I had no idea at the time my camera was rolling but for some reason it felt good afterwards, it felt right. It was a time in mine and Roger's life that I wanted to remember, just so i can appreciate the good times.

_This rant, like many others was all about Mark's hatred for April. How he did nothing to help her, how he just sat and watched her die. He meant none of it Mark was sure but it struck a chord in him. Mark simply let him rage, picked up his camera and walked into his room._

_After setting the still running camera on the tripod and pointing it to his bed, Mark sat in the camera's view._

_"Roger, I know one of these days you'll probably find this. The first thing I want you to know is that the person out there, isn't you. I don't blame you, or hate you for the things you say. Because the truth is I do hate April, but I didn't before._

_"I never planned on telling you this but I guess I can hope that you'll never find this. The cut, that you ask me so much about is from that day. Is from April. You constantly say that you deserve drugs. That it doesn't matter whether they can kill you because you're gonna die anyway. Well guess what Roger, because of your precious April, so will I."_

_Forcefully he wiped the tears off his cheeks and looked toward the door. Banging, pounding, and screaming could be heard off camera. Mark sighed and stood. He walked off camera and flicked the switch turning it off._

Roger hasn't found that tape yet, but he will, one of these days. I'll make sure of it. That would be the easiest, if not the worst, way to tell him my secret.

I'm not afraid to die. I'm more afraid to live alone. So in the end everything worked out perfectly. I'm with Roger, I love him, and he loves me. And we'll die loving each other, if not together than one right after the other. And I'm ok with that because I have my memories. I'm ok.


End file.
